


Dire: A Sign of the Times

by LeoArcana



Series: Dire 'verse [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Racism, Skinwalker Bela, Skinwalker Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 06:17:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7606969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeoArcana/pseuds/LeoArcana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With extra time off from work and Dean wanting to get out of the house for a bit, Dean and Castiel take a short roadtrip to Yellowstone.  Within the national park, a small pack of skinwalkers still live.  They're suspicious of Dean, knowing something's off, but they gradually warm up to him.  Except for their alpha, who's not particularly fond of their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dire: A Sign of the Times

Dean had been lazing out on the back patio, enjoying the late spring sun when he heard the Impala coming.  He made a pinched face at the peace and quiet being disturbed, but it was a welcome disturbance.  He rolled over onto his side and stood up, noting the sun wasn’t low enough yet for Castiel to be coming home.  He hummed to himself as he went inside, stepping into the living room just as he heard keys jingling at the front door.   Castiel swung the door open with a perturbed look on his face, immediately piquing Dean’s curiosity.

“The Roadhouse was forced to close early today,” Castiel stated.

“How come?”

“Because of two things.  One, the grease drains got backed up and overflowed into the parking lot,” Castiel answered, “And shortly after, a water pipe burst.”

“Oh… that, um, not good.”

“No, not at all,” Castiel sighed, “It’s going to be closed for four days now.  Ellen can’t get anyone to come sooner to repair all the damages from the pipe.”

“More t-time off though,” Dean smiled and shrugged.

“True.  And I was already schedule three days off… So now I have a week.”

Castiel tossed his keys aside and plopped onto the couch.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with a week off,” Castiel groaned.

Dean wrung his hands together with an idea.  It’d been one he’d been thinking of for a while, for months actually, but he’d never voiced it.  He didn’t want Castiel requesting time off, he knew he needed to work.  And he could’ve gone alone whenever he liked, he knew Castiel would understand, but he didn’t want to go alone.

“Road trip,” Dean suggested casually.

“Huh?”

“Could g-go on road tri-ip.”

“Where?”

Dean shrugged.  He didn’t have a particular place in mind.  He just wanted to go somewhere, he’d been in the Missoula area longer than he, Sam and John normally stayed anywhere; not counting the time spent in Vegas.  He thought about it for a moment; there were a number of national forests and parks they could go to that were only a few hours away.  Before he got anywhere close to deciding on somewhere, Castiel was already on his phone and looking for nearby locations.

“I didn’t realize Yellowstone was this close…” Castiel noted, “Do you want to go there?”

“Sure,” Dean smiled.

He didn’t care where they went, they could go to the middle of nowhere and he’d be happy.  But Yellowstone was nice, he hadn’t been there since he was little.  He remembered the pack there had taken him on one of his first real hunts and, with much of their help, he’d managed to take down a young bison calf.  He tried to hide the grin on his face from the prideful memory, but was failing to do so. 

Castiel had noticed and asked him what he was smiling about and he told him, of course.  As Dean told him about it, Castiel wondered why Sam hadn’t chosen to live with that pack.  They were only a couple hours away.  But as Dean went on, Castiel began to think it may have been when he was really little; before Sam was even born.  Maybe he didn’t know the pack was there or maybe they weren’t there anymore.  Castiel shook his head minutely, reminding himself not to be upset with Sam, Dean wasn’t upset about it, and watched in amusement as Dean acted out hunting the bison calf.

 

They left late the next morning.  Dean had slept in while Castiel packed, trying to think of how long they would be gone.  When he asked Dean if he was going to bring anything, he really shouldn’t have been surprised when all Dean grabbed was a single set of clothes.  They were his clothes, Sam had given them to Castiel before they left, and unsurprisingly, he wasn’t even going to wear them.  He’d rolled them up and started looking for something to tie them.

At Castiel’s questioning, Dean had said he wanted to run to Yellowstone.  He needed a good run and he planned to meet Castiel at the park gates.  He needed something to tie his clothes so he could carry them with him, it was a better idea to look human and be wearing clothes if he was going to wait by the gates.  Castiel snorted; he knew how fast Dean could run, nearly the highway speed limit, but he still doubted that Dean would be the one waiting at the gates.  Dean huffed indignantly and propositioned him with a bet on who would get there first.  Neither of them could think of a decent wager, but it would still be a race.

Tauntingly, Dean offered Castiel a head start.  Castiel refused and instead offered it to Dean, who likewise refused.  Dean grumbled something about not wanting Castiel to make him wait for too long just before he shifted.  Castiel tied his rolled up clothes to his flank and gave him a light smack.  Then there was a tense moment before both of them bolted for the front door.

Castiel swore at being hung up by fumbling his keys to lock the door.  He nearly slipped and fell as he ran around the side of the Impala, throwing the door open and glancing over his shoulder to see Dean already gone from sight.

He kept his speed a reasonable amount over the speed limit, not enough to be pulled over, and only stopped once for gas.  He should’ve filled the tank before he came home yesterday, all he could think was how far Dean had gotten.  He quickly got back on the highway, clenching the steering wheel as he sped up the on ramp.  He looked over his shoulder as he merged and caught a glimpse of the creek running under the freeway.

Dean was standing on its rocky banks, head low and drinking water.  Excitement and anxiousness ripped through him as he stepped on the gas.  He was going to beat him there after all. 

At that same moment, Dean had picked up on the Impala’s distinct rumble, saw it getting back on the freeway, and scrambled to take off running.

 

An hour and half later, Castiel was sitting in a line of cars waiting to get into the park.  He glanced around in search of Dean.  A few minutes later, he spotted him, in human form and dressed, walking down the line.  Castiel pursed his lips in annoyance at Dean having beat him here, but smiled to himself seeing how winded Dean was as he got in the car.

“Wh-when… get here?” Dean wheezed.

“About ten minutes ago, when did you get here?”

“S-same,” Dean coughed, “Side hurt.”

“Did you get a cramp?” Castiel laughed.

Dean nodded.

They passed through the gate, paying the national park fee, and went onto the Grand Loop road.  Castiel hadn’t been to Yellowstone before and stopped at every single point of interest.  Dean didn’t mind, he liked seeing all the sights after so many years; though he was more distracted by the look of awe on Castiel’s face.  As much as Castiel was enjoying himself, Dean told him the park was even better at night, once all the people were gone.

When it came time to close the park, both of them worked to hide the Impala without causing damage to any of the wildlife and waited for the park rangers to pass by.  Once they did, Dean was stripping out of his clothing and shifting.  Without needing to be asked, Castiel climbed on his back and Dean started through the forest towards one of the lesser seen, harder to reach sulfur hot springs.  He circled around the water, letting Castiel get the full view of the normally rainbow colored spring, now more pastel with the night sky.

Just as Dean turned to go to one of the staggered waterfalls nearby, a howl cut through the night.  He tensed below Castiel for a second, perking his ears forward.  Two more howls, closer this time, rang in Castiel’s ears.  A chill ran down his spine and he leaned forward, pressing himself flat against Dean’s back and clutching his fur.  He felt Dean bristle beneath him and was almost thrown off when Dean whipped to the side a second later.

Castiel glanced over Dean’s head, between flattened ears to see two large wolves at the far side of the sulfur spring.  Dean growled and let out a harsh bark and was met with one of similar tone.  The two wolves trotted around the spring, never taking their eyes off them.  As they came closer, Castiel noticed neither of them were as big as Dean.  At best, they were just large Rocky Mountain wolves. 

One of them barked and yipped at Dean while the other stared intently at Castiel.  Dean snapped back, turning to face them and make Castiel a smaller target.  They all stared at each other for a long minute before one barked again and had Dean perking his ears once more, then hanging his head.

“What’s going on?” Castiel whispered.

Dean grumbled below him and nodded his head once towards the wolves.  Both of them were now standing human before them.

“Who are you?”

“Um, Castiel,” Castiel answered.

“And who is he?”

“Dean.”

“Why can’t we sense anything from him?  Or him from us?”

“That’s a long story…” Castiel admitted.

“Let him stand.”

Castiel obediently got off Dean’s back, taking a step back to let him transform.  As soon as he did, one of the skinwalkers was stalking forward.

“What are you?” the first skinwalker snapped.

“Yee naaldooshii,” Dean replied.

A look of surprise flashed across both their faces.

“Diné bizaadísh dinitsʼaʼ?” the second asked.

“Aoo',” Dean answered.  

“Háadish nitsʼééʼ łeeʼ sitą́?”

“Kansa naashá,” Dean answered.

“Na-ishañ-dina bizaadísh dinitsʼaʼ?”

Dean nodded again.

The second skinwalker said something to the first.  The two of them went back and forth in a language that sound different than what Dean and the second had spoken.  The second asked him another question in the other language, inclining his head towards Castiel.  Dean glanced over his shoulder and hesitated answering.  Whatever Dean said, the skinwalkers didn’t seem overly pleased about it.

Castiel couldn’t help but feel a little left out as they carried on in a language he couldn’t even guess.  He wasn’t sure what native language had been spoken around here.  Eventually Dean and the other two relaxed a bit and Dean turned to him as they shifted and started walking away.  Dean quietly murmured that they were supposed to go with the other skinwalkers.

“Is that a good idea?” Castiel whispered.

“Have to.  This th-their home, is um…res-peht-ful.”

Castiel hummed uncertainly, but it was best to do what they wanted.  Dean dropped to all fours and Castiel got back on his back.  Dean trotted to catch up to the skinwalkers and kept three steps behind him.  The two strangers shared glances with each other, occasionally looking back at Dean and Castiel with unreadable expressions.  The only time either of them made a sound was when they wanted Dean’s attention.  He’d give a short bark or huff in response, earning a grumble from one of them.

They came to a short bluff, similar in steepness to the one behind Castiel’s house, but far more uneven and rocky.  Still, Dean climbed it just as easily.  At the top of the bluff, four other wolves were laying about.  They sat up at the sound of their approach and fixed their eyes on Dean and Castiel.  After a beat, they were barking and whimpering at the two that had led them there.  Castiel didn’t hear anything, but after another short bout of soft barks, Dean was hanging his head again.

Dean shrugged his shoulders, silently telling Castiel to get off.  One of the wolves that had been laying shifted upright and crossed over to Castiel.

“Why do you ride on his back?  You do not appear to be injured.”

“I, uh…”

He looked to Dean for help.  Dean shifted upright and shrugged his shoulders with a helpless look.  The skinwalker leaned in, invading Castiel’s personal space, and sniffed the side of his face.  Dean narrowed his eyes and ground his teeth, but did nothing.

“You do not smell right,” the skinwalker accused, “Are you not one of us?”

“No,” Castiel admitted.

The skinwalker, who Castiel got the feeling may be the alpha of the pack, narrowed his eyes.  He inhaled Castiel’s scent one more time then stepped over to Dean and did the same.  His lip curled in anger and he spoke in a low tone to Dean, in the same language Dean and the others had conversed in.  The discussion began to get heated, with both of them only inches from each other’s face.  One of the skinwalkers that had led them there quickly stood up human and wedged between the two of them, speaking quickly to the alpha.

The alpha growled and turned, storming back to where he’d been laying before.  The skinwalker who had stepped in said something to Dean that sounded like an apology.  The skinwalker then gestured towards the small pack, offering them to sit with them.  A couple others shifted to their human forms as they sat down and moved closer to them.  Castiel kept to Dean’s side as well as he could.  If he had felt uneasy before with just the two skinwalkers, he was downright scared now.

Most of them spoke to Dean, not taking much interest in Castiel.  But one, a woman with long, wavy, brown hair set her eyes on Castiel.

“Not exactly the belle of the ball, are you?”

She spoke with an English accent that threw Castiel off.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Bela,” Bela introduced.

“Castiel.”

“And him?”

“Dean.”

“Hm.  Got yourself a good looking one,” Bela winked.

“Thanks, I think,” Castiel replied, “I-if you don’t mind my asking, where are you from?  I didn’t think there were English skinwalkers…”

“West Wycombe, England.  And you’re right, but mum had a visit to the States.  She didn’t know about skinwalkers until I showed up,” Bela drawled.

Every now and then, one of the others would look at Bela or Castiel and say something to Dean.  He could tell they were talking him and he started to feel self-conscious.

“Don’t worry, they aren’t saying anything bad,” Bela comforted, “They’re just curious why he’s with a human.”

“Is it a bad thing?”

“Depends on who you ask,” Bela shrugged.

Being a mix of human and skinwalker herself, she didn’t think it was bad.  But the older skinwalkers tended to frown upon it.  They weren’t overly fond of mixing races, in either direction.  Some of them had argued for leaving Bela to fend for herself as a child when they found her, her mother having sent her back to the States to find her father.  She had begged and pleaded for them to let her stay, her father was abusive.  At that, she had their attention.  They found out he was from a rival pack a few states over and then stood divided on abandoning her then.  In the end, as long as she fended for herself she was allowed to stay with them and eventually was welcome.  Other packs they had met with were less than kind, strictly for her mixed blood.

She told him that the alpha of their small pack was one of those who was against mixing races.  He was sympathetic to the children, he understood it was not their fault, but to parents or other skinwalkers in relationships of that nature, not so much.  In their short conversation, he’d immediately insulted Dean for mating with a human and a male one, no less. 

Castiel was quiet for a minute, drawing his knees up and glancing over at Dean.  He seemed alright with the others, but occasionally shot a dirty look to the alpha.

“Y’know, I would bet he could take him in a fight,” Bela commented.

“You do?”

“Yes, he’s much bigger.  I don’t think I’ve seen a skinwalker of his size before…” Bela thought aloud, “Where is he from?”

“Kansas, but he’s travelled a lot.”

“No home pack?”

“A small one, smaller than this, but it’s— fallen apart.”

“And he’s alright?”

Castiel opened his mouth to answer, but it was a long story and not one he wanted to share with a stranger.  He simply told her it was a little rough, but he was fine now; with a few exceptions.  Bela narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but dropped the subject in favor of another.

“Did they have a name?” Bela asked.

“I… I don’t know, actually.”

Castiel had only been asked once before and he didn’t know then.  It had never came up before or after then.  He leaned over and nudged Dean’s arm.

“Did your— it feels weird asking this at this point, but do you have a last name?” Castiel asked.

“W-Winches-ter,” Dean answered.

The pack fell into a hush.

“Winchester?” the alpha growled.

Dean grit his teeth and glared over at the alpha.

“You’re a Winchester and you waste your blood?”

The alpha rose to his feet, spurring Dean to lean forward and transform.  The alpha did the same with a snarl, doing his best to puff himself up to be more comparable to Dean.  Dean growled and lowered his head, flattening his ears as he stood between Castiel and the alpha.

“We might get to see that fight after all…” Bela mused quietly.

The two of them stood snarling and growling at each other, but neither one of them moved.  One skinwalker cursed under his breath and shifted, taking sides with Dean.  The alpha made an odd noise of surprise and offense; Dean eyed the other skinwalker briefly, then focused back on the alpha.  Three other skinwalkers transformed; one took the alpha’s side, one took Dean’s, and the other stood uncertain between them.  Castiel heard Bela sigh and shift next to him, keeping her place beside him.  She was a lean wolf, the smallest of the pack.

All of them were growling and barking at each other, ramping up Castiel’s fear.  The skinwalkers on Dean’s side stepped towards the alpha, making him duck his head and shrink back.  After a few tense moments, the alpha returned to his human state as a sign of submission.  The others relaxed and shifted back, Dean being the last to do so.  He pointedly sat against Castiel, putting a protective arm around his waist.

“Asshole,” Dean grumbled.

Despite the situation, it never failed to make Castiel crack a tiny smile as Dean saying profanities flawlessly.

“More on your side than had been on mine,” Bela grumbled.

Castiel didn’t know how to react.

“I suppose that’s the change of the times, for the better really,” Bela sighed.

Their conversations resumed, Dean now including Castiel more in his.  Castiel could tell Dean would rather speak the native language, Apache, but he wanted Castiel involved more than that.  It also brought Bela into the group conversation; her Apache was as broken as Dean’s English.

The pack kept asking the both of them questions about their lives and both of them did their best to avoid the most asked question; why Dean felt disconnected.  They avoided answering for as long as they could, give short answers where they could and trying to change the subject.  But unfortunately, eventually they were backed into a corner.

Dean stalled for a moment, then dipped his head and admitted, in Apache, that he had succumbed to hysteria.  The pack went slack-jawed, no doubt in disbelief that he could be sitting here and perfectly sane now.  He explained further, but it didn’t seem to be sinking in.  In fact, they began to shy away from Dean as if they were scared of him.  Even the alpha tensed and moved back a bit.  He ground out a single sentence to Dean, who looked away and tensed his jaw.

Without a word, Dean shifted and looked at Castiel.  They were leaving now.  Castiel didn’t look at any of them as he threw his leg over Dean’s back and wrapped his arms around his neck.

“See you around,” Bela murmured.

There was no malice in her voice.            

“It was nice to meet you,” Castiel said.

Dean walked swiftly as he could without running until the pack disappeared behind the edge of the bluff.  Once they were out of sight and Dean was at the bottom of the bluff, he broke into a full speed run.

Castiel yelped in surprise and clutched at Dean’s fur, trying to move with Dean as he ran.  He went in a straight line, his stride unbroken by various logs and boulders.  He didn’t slow down until they approached the Impala, his line of direction blocked by a bison.  Dean flattened his ears and growled viciously at the beast.  The bison made a noise of distress, whipping its tail and facing Dean.  He snarled again, his voice dripping with anger reminiscent of when he was hysterical.

“Dean…” Castiel spoke carefully.

He didn’t respond.

“Dean, please, just— go around it.”

Nothing but continued seething growls.

“Dean—“

Castiel went to touch the side of his face and Dean snapped back at him.  Castiel pulled back, sitting up right and scared what to do.  Dean realized what he’d done and his growling stopped.  He whimpered in apology.  He slinked around the bison, making small barks at it in warning, and went to the side of the Impala.  Castiel slid off and unlocked at the car as Dean stood upright.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Castiel asked.

“No,” Dean snapped.

Castiel stepped into the car, followed by Dean.  The gates of the park were closed, locking them inside the park.  Dean crawled over to Castiel, encircling his waist and awkwardly moving him so they could both lay on the bench seat.  Dean laid out on his back, head rested against the door and knees bent slightly; Castiel laid on top of him with his knees drawn up.  Castiel shifted to get more comfortable, settling his head on Dean’s chest and hearing his heart pound.

“They don’t seem like the pack you mentioned yesterday,” Castiel spoke.

“Not.  Dif-rent pack.”

“Maybe we could look for the other one?” Castiel suggested, “You could go hunting with them again.  Maybe show them how much better of a hunter you are now.”

Dean hummed and smiled, but said nothing.  In talking with this pack, he’d learned the one who had helped him hunt as a child had dispersed.  They had split over the opinion on mixing races, ironically.  Half had moved farther into the wilderness, while others found new packs.  It was disheartening to say the least, but more disheartening was the growing knowledge that he wouldn’t be welcome to any pack if they knew of his former hysterical state.  They were afraid of him.

He huffed in resentment, telling himself he didn’t need them anyway.  The only ones he needed were Castiel, Sam and Jessica.  Dean hugged Castiel tighter and closed his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> alright, firstly i really wanted to have Dean actually speaking the apache language (from searching, that's what had been spoken in the area) but i could not for the life of me find a translator for the language, only navajo and at that it was only a [list of common phrases](http://www.omniglot.com/language/phrases/navajo.php)  
> prompt: Uh just a suggestion but i kinda wanna see what some really old school skinwalkers would do to Cas and Dean if they knew a pureblooded skinwalker was sleeping with a human.... just a thought for dire...   
> sorry if i kinda made Dean's mental state an equal-sized/bigger deal than their relationship! ;A;


End file.
